


One wish

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [85]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, SO MUCH FLUFF, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Do Jaime and Brienne believe in making wishes? Maybe they do. Especially when it comes to the one thing they cannot have.Begins at their return journey from Harrenhal and ends with Season 8
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Many ways to say I love you [85]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1234904
Comments: 16
Kudos: 102





	One wish

“There—” Jaime looks towards the stream of water merrily running alongside them. “There’s an old saying, wench,” he begins narrating as they slow down to a halt, “that if you toss a coin into a river or a well and make a wish, you’re likely to be heard.”

Brienne can’t help eyeing him with curiosity. “And you have faith in these ancient tales?” Even with his hand gone, in this sorry state he’s reduced to, he doesn’t seem to be the type to believe in these things.

“While I’ve never tried it out for myself,” he says, a faraway look in his eyes, “there’s nothing exactly _unbelievable_ about it, is there?”

“I don’t think—”

“Halt,” he calls out to their escorts. Steelshanks, who’s the closest ahead, irritably retraces his path back to them, visibly irked at being commanded like this. “Spare us a couple of coins?” Jaime demands, and when the man looks on suspiciously, he puts on his Lannister smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you're ably compensated as soon as we get to my father.”

Steelshanks mutters something under his breath, but complies, nevertheless, and hands them a piece each.

“Together?” Jaime prompts, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye.

She nods, then closes her eyes. _Sansa and Arya,_ she means it for, wants to send out a silent plea as she’s about to toss the coin into the distance, but then, something else drifts past her mind, something she doesn’t quite expect, something that leaves her surprised and alarmed.

“One wish is all you get, wench,” she can hear him tease beside her. “Not a bunch. So you better make haste.”

Letting her heart take over, she lets go of the coin and hurls it into the water.

“What did you wish for?” he asks when they’re back on their way again.

“One must not voice it,” Brienne evades, for the simple reason that she can’t divulge it to him. “Wishes are meant to be kept a secret, Ser Jaime.”

_Deep in my heart._

A secret, it is. It will always be, for it’s never going to come true.

+++++

“Never thought I’d find you here, at the Godswood, Lady Brienne.”

Pleasantly surprised, though mildly flustered by his unannounced arrival, Brienne gets to her feet. “Never expected you to walk in on my solitude, Ser Jaime.” She fixes her eyes on the sacred tree, not knowing what to say next. 

“I thought you believed in the new gods,” he remarks, following her gaze.

“And I thought you believed in none at all,” she keeps on this sparring.

“I—” A slight heaviness in his breath, she can note. He seems a little unsettled. Restless. “I came here to—”

“—say a little prayer?” she teases when he breaks away mid-sentence, recalling the day they’d offered a coin each to the river.

To her amazement, he doesn’t refute her, just offers her a warm smile. “A prayer at times won’t hurt,” he says, his eyes narrowing on her. “A man can indulge in making a wish once in a while.”

“What are you going to wish for?” At once, her heart turns to stone and she regrets asking. Cersei, of course, and a smooth path to a life with her. What else could he ever crave for? 

“One must not voice it, Brienne,” he continues to parry, eyes twinkling as he mimics her stand when they’d last had this conversation.

“A secret,” she sullenly agrees.

+++++

“Goodbye, Brienne,” he murmurs, eyes melting her down. 

His priceless gifts are one thing, but this—this moment being their last together, the last she’ll see of him, overwhelms her more than anything else, and all she can manage is a nod and flooded eyes.

A secret.

That is what it has to be. She tries to turn away, to escape before he can catch it in her eyes, but he stalls her with a feathery touch to her arm.

The moment freezes. So do her feet.

“Stay still—” he steps closer without warning, so close that their faces are inches apart.

Her heart at her throat, she wants him to hold her back, to wrap her in his arms, to press warm kisses to her lips. She can hear in her head what he hasn’t told her, the sweet words that will never leave his lips. 

Pulling back the intimacy of this beautiful instant is the gloom that’s soon to follow.

Wishes be damned, she’s never going to make one again. For fools, they were, and for the extremely fortunate. Women like her are destined to be lonely, to—

He reaches out for her face and she can feel her eyelids flutter madly. With a gentle thumb and forefinger, he picks out something from beneath her eye. “An eyelash—” he hands it to her.

Not knowing what to make of it, she gapes, confused.

“Hold out your hand, wench.”

“Make a fist—” he says when she offers him her palm. “There—” he places the minute strand of hair on her knuckles. “Now close your eyes and blow it away while you ask it for something.”

Her resolve to keep away from wishing for the impossible crumbling to bits, she does as he says, only one thing flashing across her mind when she closes her eyes.

 _One wish_ , she recalls his words. One is all she needs.

“What did you ask for, Brienne?” he wants to know as soon as she’s sent the little piece of hair on its journey.

Heart heavier than before, she manages a smile. “You know I’m not going to tell you, Ser Jaime.”

A secret, it will always remain, just between her and her heart. Because she’s certain it’ll never happen.

+++++

“It’s yours,” he insists, those eyes, yet again, travelling to the depths of her heart.

A look like that—she can do everything but persist with her intent to return the sword. She puts it away, not quite knowing what to say in return. Those eyes are going to haunt her for nights, in moments where she has nought but dark walls and an empty bed for company. If only—

“Brienne—” Jaime points to her cheek, but this time he takes care not to touch her. It feels as if an invisible barrier has erected itself between them. “Make a wish,” he quietly insists.

 _I’m done with them,_ she wants to say, to lament that she isn’t one of those lucky ones, but just like last time, she finds herself reaching for the eyelash that’s no more than a slim ray of hope.

And she’ll live with that for now. 

She blows it away, her heart bleeding, just one thing on her mind. She knows not to expect, yet a part of her cannot help sending up a soft plea.

A gentle smile plays his lips. “A secret?”

She nods, returning his smile.

Inside, she’s in tears.

+++++

Later that night, when she rows down the river with Podrick, Brienne drops a coin into the darkness.

There is just one thing on her mind when she closes her eyes.

One wish. Just one.

If only...

+++++ 

_Ser Brienne._

Ale in her blood, her heart fluttering madly, she’s still coming to terms with it—not just her new title, but everything.

Especially this new _him._

The gathering by the fire begins to thin, her companions file out one by one, each craving a few hours of rest before they face the inevitable, but Brienne cannot even imagine it. The magic of the moment has passed, but the effect is still there, lingering, lasting. Life has never been this wonderful before. She’s never felt warmer, more wanted.

“So,” he begins, drawing her attention. Only now does she notice they’re the only ones left by the fireplace. “Have you made any wish lately?”

Her eyes instinctively fly to his cheek. “Speaking of wishes—” she gestures to the stray eyelash stuck to the bridge of his nose. “There’s one waiting for you.”

To her surprise, he brushes it away. “Not anymore.”

She eyes him in question.

“My wish has come true, wench,” he murmurs, approaching her to close the gap between them. “At last, after all these years.”

His look gives it away, but she pushes herself to push down her emotions. What if she’s wrong? “What did you wish for?” she decides to ask instead of speculating.

His lips dance in a smile. “One must not voice it, my lady.” 

“We might not last another day,” she presses, unable to bear the thought of perishing without knowing what’s in his heart. “You say yours has already come true. Why, then, do you hesitate to speak of it? Tell me what it is—”

“I think you know,” he says, his eyes shining brighter than the fire. “But then, it’s been years—” he sidles up to her, leans closer “—and you haven’t told me either.” His voice is like a hot drink on a cold winter night. “What have you been wishing for, wench?” he puts forth his usual question, warm breath and the scent of him washing over her, drawing her into the moment, mesmerising her. “Don’t you tell me it’s a secret because I cannot take that answer any longer.”

“I think you know,” she echoes his reply. “One wish—” she breaks away, the lump in her throat letting her down, not letting her pour it all out to him.“Just this—this one,” she tries again, but her voice gives way again, forcing her to pause. “Nothing more—nothing else—”

“One wish,” he whispers, his hand on her neck, his lips gently caressing hers, “just like mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what is it with me and wishes, I just had to write this. Thank you for reading, and for those who're tired of me, sorry, I can't keep it to myself, at times!


End file.
